《Ethereal Creator of Realms》BK 1: Chapter 10 First Demigod
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I took a turned my head gazing at the massive dark green fruit trees half the height of a mountain, the massive branches weaving a canopy blocking out most of the star rivers light.
Smaller dark green trees with winding trunks only twice the height of a man was the only other trees.
Dense dark green 3-foot high grass covers the ground as I wade through it my bigger longer elven ears twitching at the slightest sound.
I pass a massive stone lying flat on the ground surrounded by four smaller 5 foot tall stone pillars, further surrounded by a circle of small round rocks.
On the larger rectangular stone in the middle sits a stone a fourth of its size standing up on its end towards the sky.
The ground within the ring of stones bare despite the outside of them being surrounding by the tall dark green grasses.
As I walk past the shrine of stone my pale skin glowed blue, my eyes shined gold as this symbol carved into the top shrine stone glowed gold.
The Symbol of Razyl the same tattoo I was born with over my right eye, which is now glowing gold.
The gold light reflecting off my black hair I move towards the clearing behind the shrine, unfazed.
This has happened to me many times before.
Walking into the clearing I see an opening in the stone cliff face, its small round entrance decorated with all manner of orange paints, ceramic beads, bronze beads, and various bones or skulls of trophies offered to Razyl God of Power.
I enter the sacred cave hut, all manner of scrolls along the shelves that have been carved into the walls, and lying about on tables and desks.
Finally, I find the Sacred Text of Razyl describing the night of his descent.
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I open the scroll and begin to read.
………………………………………………………………………………
The elf tribesman of the Martial Tribe surrounded a large shrine erected despite the Oracle warning saying only Ethereal should be worshipped.
After the dream of a young woman and a strange series of events, the tribesman of the Burning Palm Tribe erected the Sacred shrine and began the ritual.
The tribesmen swayed as they chanted in a crowded circle around the shrine gazing up at the night sky, the star river glowing dimly against the darkness of the void.
After their collective gaze hit the Shrine of Razyl they fell on their knees and hands bows covered in blue paints their eyes tattoos all facing the ground.
Then there was a loud sound like thunder accompanied wind.
The tribesman looked up at the large tall man with navy blue skin, long cords of black hair and glowing gold eyes, his body surrounded by a blue aura.
“I am Razyl God of Power and Hier to Throne of The Gods.
I have come to gift you the divine runes so your knowledge and magic may advance.
Behold the Divine Runes.”
Then 26 glowing blue glyphs appeared in front of Razyl.
The Divines Runes flowed through the air inscribing themselves onto the shrines four pillars.
The leader of the Tribesman appeared a woman the same one that had the dream.
Her hair and natural eye tattoo over her right eye dark green, her skin pale, and her eyes a bright blue, her small firm elven ears pierced with ceramic earrings.
The woman her name Shae asked reverently, “You say you are the prince of the gods, are you not king?”
Razyl answered, “No my father Myc is King of the Gods.
He and my mother Vela are the Ancestral Gods, created by The Great One Ethereal himself.”
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Shae, “Then who is Ethereal?”
Razyl answers, “The God of the Gods.”
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!”
A collective gasp resounds through the tribesman, from their very mouths in surprise.
Razyl says, “As the God of Power I shall grant power to those who ask for power, in exchange for…… an offering.
The amount of power will be decided through the deal made.”
Then with the sound of thunder and a flash of light, Razyl is gone.
Razyl appeared later that night in Shae’s hut and seduced her, impregnating her after a night of passion.
The Head Priestess of Razyl then gave birth nine months later to the first demigod, a girl named Zeyla.
………………………………………………………………………………
After reading it I rolled up the scroll subconsciously muttering two words.
“Father, Mother.”
It has been over four thousand years since then and I am now a highly revered guardian of the Burning Palm Tribe, our tribe has grown even larger absorbing several smaller tribes into it.
We recently defeated the Chiefs of the Claw Tribe and Talon Tribe, leaving only massive The Martial Tribe with their oracle, the Warpath Tribe, the Red Flower Tribe, the Dancing Fist Tribe, and The Solid Word Tribe.
I set down the scroll making my way out the hut when I hear a loud roar come from the southwest.
“ERAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHIIIAAAAHHHHHHH”
Zeyla, “The nearest village in that direction is Ramrock, shit.
Sounds like a feral fire dragon.”
I dart off pass the shrine and into the forest, the glow of my father's symbol on the shrine fading in the distance behind me.
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God complex
A hero is summoned to another world, vanquishes evil, yadda yadda, saves the kingdom and lives happily ever after. There is no such hero in this story. Just a desperate youth with great ambition and very little to lose. A zero to hero style story set in a country clearly inspired by modern USA with just as many issues and the minority of mages often pulling strings from the shadows. I am also hoping the whole thing won't turn out edgy enough to cut me. I want to rely on actual good writing rather than cheap powertrip gimmicks. edit: Please don't mind Zetari's salty review. He is quite literally making up any use of the torture and human experimentation trope and says MC is blank after 4 chapters where he conveniently stops reading just at the start of his first character development. For extra entertainment, I will be uploading chapters two at a time and compose a relevant poem through the chapter names. [participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]
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8 148BladeMage
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8 188My Ability
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8 171King of Woe
Father died when I was young. Mother was sent away shortly afterwards. Grandfather's only involvement in my life was the beatings and cuttings and now even he lies entombed in the depths of Castle Black, my castle. Now I look over this putrid kingdom the old man allowed to rot and see a pathetic creature, wounded, weak. I need to feed it, nurture it back to health and when I look towards my neighbors I can't help but see fresh meat guarded behind stone walls.
8 183Origins of Three Empires
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